


The Jupiter Spy

by chapscher



Category: Sparks Nevada Marshal on Mars
Genre: Implied Masturbation, M/M, NSFJ - not safe for jupiter, alien sex instructions, post-Natal Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4960123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapscher/pseuds/chapscher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Croach reluctantly arranges the marshal's station to accommodate Pemily Stallwark. Meanwhile, Nevada reviews footage from Jib Janeen's visit in order to figure out what exactly happened between the Jupiter spy and his Martian companion.</p><p>Spoilers for TAH #141, "Natal Attraction."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Jupiter Spy

The spy looked like he was gone for good this time. Three Jupiterian offspring, two sabotaged relationships, and one massive headache for the marshal. And now there was the new business of dealing with the young Pemily Stallwark, but that could wait until tomorrow.

"I sure am honored to be taken under your wing, Marshal Nevada," Pemily said with a grin as she dragged her bags into the station. "Bein' a bounty hunter worked for a while, but reckon this is what I've really wanted."

"Hmm? Yeah, reckon. Marshal's Station, prepare a secondary sleeping quarters for Ms. Stallwark here."

The marshal's desk glowed as the AI spoke, "Marshal? This marshal's station is equipped with only primary sleeping quarters, which are currently utilized by Croach the Tracker."

"You heard the station, Croach. Clear out so Pemily has a place to sleep."

The Martian's antennae crinkled in acute annoyance as he approached the marshal. "Sparks Nevada, are you evicting me?"

"C'mon, Croach. It's been a long day and I just want this sorted out as soon as possible."

"Oh, has it been a long day for you, Sparks Nevada?" He asked, backing Nevada against the edge of the desk. His towering form loomed over the marshal as his double tongues began to chirp and slice at each syllable. "Because it has certainly been a day that I have perceived as longer than the standard unit of time. Are you aware of why I may have perceived time in a way that is inaccurate and uncharacteristic of my standard perception, which is based on my precise and multitudinous senses?"

Nevada was struck dumb for a moment as Croach glared at him with massive black eyes. "Reckon it's because you-"

"It is because I gave birth today, Sparks Nevada. I gave live birth. My species does not bear offspring in this manner. We lay a clutch of six to eight eggs. But today, I gave birth to a live offspring via my ovipositor. The Jupitarian youngling was seven times larger than the orifice on the extremity it came from."

"Gross."

"This time, I concur. But I have healed - praise Nah Nohtek - and I wholeheartedly agree with your initial analysis as well, Sparks Nevada: it has indeed been a 'long day.'"

Martians were usually somewhat cold to the touch, but in that moment a definite heat rose from Croach's skin as a purple blush swept across his cheeks and down his neck. Pemily had backed across the room until she was standing almost entirely in one of the cells and hiding behind her backpack. Nevada lightly bit his lip as he tried to back further into the desk that was already digging into the back of his thighs.

"Pemily, help Croach clear out his things."

Croach's eyes flashed. "Sparks Nevada."

"Iffin' she's gonna be training with me - with us, Croach - reckon I'd rather she be someplace where the Marshal's Station AI could keep watch and immediately notify me iffin' anything goes wrong and the like. Look, I'll find you a place to stay while she's here. Iffin' you need to lie down right now there are cots in every cell, but iffin' you hold yer horses for a few minutes I'll get you a proper bed. Alright?"

Nevada watched as what must have been Croach's speech cluster expanded a few times before he simply imitated a human sigh. He could almost feel the onus getting ticked off the record as Croach turned and escorted Pemily to the second floor of the station.

"Station?"

"I am currently scanning the immediate area for Martian-friendly inns, Marshal."

"Thanks for that, but there's something I want to get to first. You told me several weeks ago that there was no breech in security when Jib Janeen, that Jupiter spy, was parading around as me. Nothing accessed that day? By anyone?"

"Only basic profiles on Felton, the widow Johnson, the barkeep, and Croach the Tracker."

Nevada sat behind his desk and watched as the files appeared around him. Each profile had little more than their address, a current photo, and their blank arrest records.

"Is there anything else you want to check for that day, Marshal?"

"Play back all video and audio recordings for that day."

"Is there any particular event you wish to observe?"

"Y-no. No... I want to comb through this myself. You just keep lookin' for that inn."

Nevada hunched forward in his chair as he watched the footage. It was strange watching himself move in ways he never moved; say things he would never say. He tried to review the footage once before, but had stopped as soon as he heard the spy speaking in his own familiar voice. But, as strange as it felt, he needed to keep watching now.

People he had grown close to and had known for years slung accusations of "spy" at each other and Nevada yawned. He already knew how this played out. Each witness had told him several times when he was writing up the paperwork.

Eventually, the barkeep escorted everyone out and the building was quiet for several hours. Perhaps he already knew all he needed to know and all that was there. He fast-forwarded until finally the station doors opened again and Nevada watched himself enter; still moving in that odd way that the Jupiter spy made him move. Jib immediately pulled up the profiles and snapped a picture of each one.

"Would you like me to send this profile to your private account for easy access, Marshal?" the station's AI asked in the recording.

"Uhh. No? Like, thanks but no thanks, buddy. I know you're trying to be helpful but it is super duper not working. I got all I need for Glorious Jupit-EARTH! That's where I'm from, right? I know it's Earth or Earth's moon. Probably Earth. Yeah! Earth! Earth: best planet after Jupiter. You know what, you silly Billy AI? I'm gonna go into the room where all my file cabinets are. Then I'll just help myself and you won't have to do anything or even keep a record of me being there. But before that, one last question: do we have that kind of room and where is it?"

There was a whirr of doors. "The door to records is open. However, all activity is recorded automatically unless the administrative password is provided."

Jib rolled his eyes and flipped his hair in the general direction of where it seemed like he thought the station's AI was. "Fine, have things your way. You can be a silly Billy or a negative Nancy, but not both. That's too many names and makes you a name-hogging Norton."

Once he was with the records, Jib began pulling on locked file cabinets. First he tried "S" for secrets, then "P" for passwords, then "Y" because how cool would it be if the secret combination on his secret spy mission was spelling out the word "SPY"? That didn't work. Neither did "J" for Jupiter, "I" for information, or "B" for "Be a Shame if This Got Into the Wrong Hands" and Jib was running out of important letters at this point.

"Sparks Nevada?"

Jib whirled around to see Croach standing in the door. He had been so occupied with looking for secrets that he didn't hear the AI announce him.

"Croachy-Cakes! You sacred me. And you walk so quietly too. Creepy. Anyways, what's up?"

Croach slowly approached Jib with a sort of hesitation that Nevada had only seen a few times before. The footage wasn't very sharp in the low light the spy was working in, but he could see Croach's antennae curl out slowly towards Jib. Croach was trying to read something in the spy's... no... in his expression. Croach was looking for something, but Nevada wasn't sure what.

"Much has happened in recent weeks, Sparks Nevada," Croach started. "I was resurrected by and was the host vessel to V’stalu of the Galaxium. Then my revitalized Nah Nohtek -praise be- consumed him. Today has been our first encounter since my death when I have been unaccompanied by the force Galactic."

"Wow! Croachuvuis! You have been busy! Like, whoa, slow down, girlfriend."

"Do not mis-designate my gender, Sparks Nevada."

"And I won't, believe you me. Croach? Babe? You are more man than most anyone on Mars can handle. Look at you. That muscle, that powerful structure! Turn around for me. C'mon, just turn around. Twirly twirly."

As soon as Croach's back was turned Jib pulled out a small pink notebook that Nevada had never seen him reference before. It was hidden away by the time Croach finished turning.

"But do you know," Jib asked, "what puts you just over the top on that manliness scale? Because I'm gonna tell you, buddy. Your feet."

"B-bagropa! Sparks Nevada, you requested yourself that we not speak of that."

"I did? Why? And - I know why! I'm just testing to see if you know why."

Croach fidgeted and so did Nevada as he watched the recording. What had happened between them that one time was being brought up more often than not ever since Croach's return.

"Once at the Old Mission you and I revealed feet to one another, you stimulated my eggsacs, and we both agreed that it was an undesirable encounter that we would rather not discuss."

"Holy fever, he saw your feet."

"What?"

"All this talk about feet and eggsacs," Jib chattered on, "doesn't it just get you in a mood?"

"Which is a good enough reason to cease speaking of it, Sparks Nevada."

"Yeah, I don't think so, pal," Jib said, stepping between Croach and the door. "Croach. Buddy. You can get your look-out parts on my feet as much as you want. But I'm getting ahead of myself, that's a problem of mine. What were you saying about this Galaxy guy or whatever. He sounds neat. Should I be jealous? Because, Croach Bear, I can get jellay-gay so fast that Galaxy boy won't know what's what."

"No!" Croach made a quiet exasperated noise from deep in his chest and buried his face in his hands. "Sparks Nevada, I only wish to say that you were the reason why the force galactic resurrected me; restoring my mind and body and even my Nah Nohtek -praise be- to this healthy state. I can say with certainty that I would still be dead if it were not for your influence. I am under a great onus to you for this and, of course, your actions that have saved this, our universe."

"Yeah. Onus. Totally onus," Jib said with an enthusiastic nod.

"I have been thinking of human emotions and human relationships, which have led me to try to find a designation that we fall under. To be direct, Sparks Nevada, I want to know why V’stalu of the Galaxium had chosen me as a vessel. A vessel used specifically to be a messenger to you. What am I to you?"

"You're my buddy!" Jib said, throwing his arms out to the side. "And, like, my super best buddy too. Do you think that I would stimulate just anyone's eggsacs and do that other important thing you said? Like, does that sound like something I would do for anyone else?"

Croach leaned against the filing cabinets and stared at a dimly flashing light on the wall. His antennae focused in on himself before he became still. Even the gentle expanse of inhale and exhale stopped as Croach stared unblinkingly at the light.

"It," Croach said softly, startling both Jib and the future Nevada. "It does not, Sparks Nevada."

"See? Best buddies."

"And perhaps I do not comprehend human relationships as intricately as I anticipated. This friendship that you described, Sparks Nevada, does it include romantic intention? I fear we may have differing interpretations and I... well..." Croach trailed off as he fiddled with a loose edge of his vest.

Jib smiled wide as he reached behind him and slapped the wall around the door a few times before he finally activated the door closing mechanism. "Well, how about we try it on for size, Croach-Pops?"

"I do not understand your meaning."

"Well, you want there to be romantical intentiony things, yeah?"

"Correct. As long as you do as well, Sparks Neva-"

"Whatever. Here's the deal, baby smacks. We are going to kiss and see how we like it. Then, if we like it, we're totes gonna do it again."

Croach backed against the cabinets as he stared down at Jib Janeen, who strutted towards him with pouted lips.

“You do not find me ‘gross,’ Sparks Nevada?”

Jib rolled his eyes and blew a raspberry. “A handsome Martian like you? No way.”

"Bagropa. Sparks Nevada, this is sudden. Desired, but sudden. The first-most...” He simulated a throat-cleating sound as Jib stepped in so close that their chests brushed together at the apex of each breath. “ Are you sure that engaging in the act of human mouth kissing is something you desire?"

"It's the only way I wanna do it, Croachily Poachily," Jib said as he grabbed Croach by the vest and pulled him down.

It was at this point that Sparks stopped the recording and sat back in his chair with a hand covering his mouth. He startled when he saw Croach's profile image staring out at him from the file still displayed over his desk. From upstairs there were the sounds of footfalls and heavy furniture being dragged across the floor. He had time. Probably plenty of time. Far too much time for what he was about to do. Nevada held his breath and waited for Felton's familiar call for help or something - anything - to pull him away. But no call came.

Nevada felt his own lips pout slightly as the recording started again and he watched his form press soft lips against Croach's mouth. Perhaps what disturbed him the most was how gentle it became; Jib had let go of the vest pretty quickly after Croach had bent down to meet his lips. It lasted for a long moment, neither moving to deepen the kiss or grasp at each other. Croach's antennae slowly uncurled and rested lightly against the back of Jib's head, brushing over red hair. Instinctively, Nevada reached behind him to touch that same point just under his premature bald spot. In the lingering moment of the kiss, he wondered what it felt like to have Croach's antennae caressing him. He wanted to think it was gross, but could only see it as comforting.

As the kiss ended, Nevada saw something he wished he could see more often. Croach was smiling. A purple blush had covered his cheeks and he was smiling.

"Well," Jib said as he bounced on his heels a few times, "my work here is done."

"Is it, Sparks Nevada?" Croach asked, lightly brushing a speck of dust from Jib's marshal badge. "You did recommend that you and I engage in the act of human mouth kissing once more if we found the initial act pleasurable. For me, it was the eighth most pleasurable sensation I have ever experienced."

"Look, buddy. I didn't come here all the way from my home planet for you to be all judgey-judgey. That Red Rider person who was at the bar, she was a way better kisser than you. Like... like loads. And she wasn't even that good."

Croach laughed in his throat. "I have emulated the sound of human laughter to indicate that I agree with your analysis of The Red Plains Rider's abilities, Sparks Nevada. Your talents were far superior. However, I believe that I may be able to better demonstrate my capabilities if granted this secondary kiss."  


"Nah, I don't think I wanna give it now. This Sparkle train is leaving the station."

"I would be under onus to you for the opportunity," Croach said, gently caressing the fabric of Jib's neckerchief.

Nevada paused the recording again as he heard the stairs leading down into his office creek. As he sat still and listened he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflective surface of the AI's console. His entire face and neck were tinted in a bright red blush. Trying to take his mind off it, Nevada focused on the stack of organized paperwork sitting on the corner of his desk. But it was too difficult to distract himself from the very real idea that Croach was begging to kiss him. There was another creek from the stairs and footsteps once again walked to the sleeping quarters. Blush still full in his cheeks, the recording resumed.

Jib rolled his eyes. "This is just showmanship. But fine, you talked me into it or whatever. You owe me, though."

"As is the function of onus, Sparks Nevada."

Croach closed the distance between their mouths again as he pulled Jib into another kiss. This time he coaxed the spy's lips to part and slipped his dual tongues into the other man's mouth. Jib's eyes shot open and darted frantically around the small room before slowly closing once more as a soft moan escaped him. Croach's arms flexed their muscle as he gripped Jib's wrists and pinned him against the wall. They stayed locked in a deep kiss as Jib Janeen wrestled control away from Croach and slammed him into the door.

Nevada couldn't pause the recording or even move as he watched his body press against Croach's. And he couldn't help but to wish that, somehow, he could remember what that felt like.

"Alright," Jib said as he broke the kiss and caught his breath, leaning against Croach's chest. "You proved your point, like, all the way. But, for the record, I think that two tongues is cheating and-"

"Copulate with me, Sparks Nevada."

"But we just did."

"Not in the customs of my planet we have not," Croach said, slipping his hands under Jib's coat. "I have already begun to secrete my lubricating fluids and you have yet to even touch my eggsacs, let alone observe my feet and initiate my heat cycle."

"Well, buddy, we can do all that once I get back from MarshCon."

"Do you refer to the Marshal's Conference? I believed that it is occurring presently and you have elected not to attend."

"Wrong! I'm there right now, Croachy Boachy. But yes, hit me up once I get back."

"Very well, Sparks Nevada. But I initially would like to inform you of how my species copulates. That way, you shall be prepared immediately upon your return. I will require access to your erect mating nub so that I may straddle your hips and-"

"-Looky here, Cinnamon Toast Croach. I am super duper flattered and all, but let's wait for that until I get back, alright?"

Croach straightened up and adjusted his slightly misaligned loincloth as Jib opened the door again. "I believe I understand, Sparks Nevada. It is related to the human phrase regarding absence, the metaphorical human heart, and fondness, is it not? Then I shall eagerly await your return and all that our reunion implies."

"Don't know what that means," Jib said as he half-walked half-twirled back to the station's front doors. "Get plenty of rest there, buddy. Gonna need your energy."

Croach smiled and leaned against the wall closest to the stairs leading up to his quarters. "Yours shall be a very eventful homecoming indeed, Sparks Nevada." He watched Jib with bedroom eyes as he toyed with the cord holding up his loincloth. "In the time until our next meeting, I will reflect upon this conversation often; particularly as I continue my research into the mating practices of male humans."

"Not what I meant, but okay," Jib said, halfway out the door. "So long, buddy."

Croach was left alone in the station. Breaths came heavy as his eyes slowly closed and he gripped onto the wall behind him. He turned and went upstairs. Two minutes later the recording of his quarters cut off.

Hands shaking, Nevada fast-forwarded through the rest of the recording. A few hours into his scan and Croach's quarters were back online. He tried not to notice how content and exhausted Croach looked when he was lying on his back on the mattress and only censored by a threadbare sheet. But Nevada didn't slow down until he saw himself come into the station with the duffel he took to the marshal's conference slung over his shoulder. Croach had left soon before then. He was called into the Martian underground city by another member of his tribe; no doubt Jib Janeen in disguise to lure him away from the station.

"Marshal?" said the station's AI. "Would you like to perform an override to the recording that Croach the Tracker had struck from the record?"

"That won't be necessary. Reckon I found what I was looking for."

"Scan for Martian-friendly inns is complete. Shall I contact the nearest one with an available room?"

"That may not be necessary neither," Nevada said as he closed out of the recordings and profiles. "I have a few things I wanna run by Croach first."

The steps creaked again, this time with Croach descending into the marshal's office with a satchel of his belongings over his shoulder. His cheeks and the base of his antennae still had that deep purple tint as he approached Nevada with a stern look.

"Sparks Nevada," he said, "if it is all the same to you, I shall return to the underground city of my people while the human designated Pemily Stallwark trains here under your tutelage."

"No, it ain't all the same to me, Croach," Nevada said as he approached the Martian. "Just because Pemily's stayin' here doesn't mean that you have to leave town. Besides, she'd have plenty to learn about marshaling from you too, Croach. I can do it on my own, of course, but I..." His voice trailed off as he stammered around half-formed words.

"You what, Sparks Nevada?"

"I mean, iffin' I'm gonna be marshalin', reckon I'd rather do it with you as my deputy. Like, we tried it without a few times and... reckon I prefer it this way."

"I do not hold the human position of 'deputy,' Sparks Nevada. Nor would I hold any human title."

"Well, you're deputy enough for me." Nevada reached out and gently lifted Croach's satchel from his shoulder, setting it on the desk. "And I reckon I'd prefer it iffin' you didn't leave town."

Croach sat on the edge of the desk, glancing from his belongings to the floor. That same look was in his eyes as there was when he first approached Jib Janeen alone in the records room.

"Have you located a room that I may occupy while Pemily Stallwark is in the marshal's station sleeping quarters?"

"Well, as I see it, you've got two options, Croach." Nevada pulled up the display of the inn the station's AI found. "I can rent you a room here. Or you can, y'know, stay at my place."

"In your apartment, Sparks Nevada?"

"Actually duplex-half. Yeah. On my couch... which is actually a hide-a-bed." Nevada cleared his throat. "I mean, if you want. I don't want this to be awkward fer ya."

"In what way would this arrangement be awkward? You and I have shared much closer quarters than this while we spend nights on the plains. I am aware of your human sleeping habits and odd half-conversations you hold while slumbering."

"I talk in my sleep?"

"Regularly. A common theme is expressing an intense fear that paperwork would not be completed on time or properly. There is also frequent usage of the phrase 'I am from Earth.'"

"Okay, what I say in my sleep ain't important right now." Nevada sighed and shook his head, trying to get back on track. "The reason why it might be awkward for you stayin' at my place is because you're sweet on me, Croach."

Croach's antennae unfurled and reached out towards Nevada while the rest of the Martian stared at him blankly. "That is erroneous."

"After what happened these past few weeks I ain't about to buy that, Croach. And even iffin' that were you just wantin' what would have been best for what you thought were your... our kids; it's more than that."

Croach stood. "Sparks Nevada, if you refer to that one time three cycles ago when you stimulated my eggsacs and we revealed our feet to each other, I need to remind you that it was only enacted under duress and-"

"No! No, Croach. Geez, there it is again. Look, I know it can seem like it, but not everything that happens between us goes back to that one day." Nevada took off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair. "I mean... I was thinkin' about how Jib Janeen said that Jupiter beings make people pregnant by kissing. Then I was thinking about how you didn't say nothin' about it after he said that he put that batch in you when he was parading around as me. Then I remembered how happy you thought I would be when you first told me you were expectin'."

"It was because you were so eager to be a father when The Red Plains Rider seemed to have been fertilized by you," Croach said, pointedly avoiding eye contact as he sat down again. "I did not anticipate such a contrasting reaction when I informed you of my condition."

"I finally saw the recording from when Jib Janeen was here. I watched him knock you up, Croach. Right over there in record storage."

Croach drummed his fingertips against the desk for a few seconds before he looked up at Nevada. "How much of this exchange did you witness?"

"Up until you went to your quarters. Although I could override your access restriction to the recordings from your room, I didn't reckon that it would be vital to the spy's case. And it ain't vital, is it, Croach?"

"It is not, Sparks Nevada. And I am under onus to you for this respect of what was a private and intimate moment."

"Yeah. And, given Jib was leading you pretty far down that particular path, I suppose I can't hardly blame you for interpretin' or reactin' the way you did."

"And I am under further onus to you for your understanding."

"M'hm. Reckon." Nevada moved Croach's satchel aside and sat beside his Martian companion on the desk. "When you..." He stopped to clear his throat. "When you first started talkin' to Jib Janeen in that room over there, you mentioned Vistamumum of the Galadiardi or whatever bringing you back so you could be a messenger to me."

"V’stalu of the Galaxium. Yes?"

"Well, to be honest, I've been trying to understand it too. I mean, he could have used Red or Felton or even Mercury to talk to me. But he needed you. But you were dead. And I guess... well... I guess, out of anyone in the universe, I needed to hear something - anything - from you more than anyone else. To be honest, I felt guilty as hell over what happened to you. I mean, I shouldn't have let you drink as much as you did and even though Red and Mercy were doing’ a lot of talk, I... I pulled the trigger. You died in my arms."

"Yes, I remember, Sparks Nevada. And there was much that you attempted to say to me at that time."

"And after you died I kept having dreams about you. And those dreams, they always started off as you and I just... doin' what we do. Sitting here in the station together. And then you would, like, eat me until I woke up. And after I stopped sweatin' about bein' eaten... I realized that I missed you. That, if given the choice between wakin' up and havin' Red be there or you, I chose you every time."

Croach sat up a little straighter. "Really?"

"Yeah. But don't ask me why because I... I just don't know."

"What are you trying to say, Sparks Nevada?"

"That maybe I'm sweet on y- I don't know." Nevada turned towards the image of the inn that the AI was displaying. "Look, you can stay at my place or you can stay at the inn. I don't want it to be awkward for you and it doesn't matter much to me where you go."

"Wait, what were you about to say? It sounded important."

"It wasn't. Well, Croach? Where will it be?"

Croach shouldered his satchel again as he stood. "If it is acceptable to you, I would rather stay at your residence until Pemily Stallwark completes her training. Then I shall return here."

"Good, good. I wasn't really planning on it being a permanen- good. Yeah." Nevada got up and donned his hat again as he turned off the AI display. "And while Pemily is here, Croach, reckon we could both put to use those paternal instincts we've been thinkin' about so much lately. You and I, reckon we could raise that cowpoke into a fine young marshal iffin' we put our minds to it."

Croach cocked an eyebrow at the marshal. “The human designated Pemily Stallwark is not our offspring, Sparks Nevada.”

“Well, yeah. I know that. I was just thinkin-”

“However,” Croach continued, letting Nevada lead him to the door. “What you have described sounds like a pleasurable experience, Sparks Nevada. And what are we in this relationship?”

The marshal stopped in the entrance, looking up at Croach as he felt a slender antennae gently brush against his hair. “We’re pals, Croach. Just as we always have been. Just two pals living together and raising a moon-born restless teenager into one of the finest marshals in the galaxy.”

Antennae gently lifting a few strands of hair from Nevada’s eyes, Croach smiled and put a hand on his shoulder. “And it shall be an onus to train this young human by your side, Sparks Nevada.”


End file.
